


Replication

by mythic0wings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Basilisk - Freeform, Cerberus - Freeform, Flaming Salamander, Gen, Laboratory Experiments, Phoenix - Freeform, Rating May Change, Science Fiction & Fantasy, dragon - Freeform, gene splicing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythic0wings/pseuds/mythic0wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underneath the offices and labs of ATLAS runs a secret project to build a military force of super-humans through gene splicing. Before it can be shown to the public these experiments go under; the experiments are the reason why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replication

**Author's Note:**

> Made in tandem with a comic I start developing a while back, I hope that it appeals to my readers. I look forward to hearing from you all!

The smell of oak is heavy in the air, emanating from the furniture claiming this space as an office. Wooden desks, cabinets, even a metal chair were spread around the room. Stained with dark colors it brought a calming sense to the room. On the desk rests two small boxes, each containing a powerful projector that shone bright blue to display a screen in the air. Dimmed, only a few applications are open; the calendar, a video call that had ended some time ago plus some sort of schedule. To pair with the hovering screen was a suspended keyboard giving off a slight hum from its motors. Appearing to have only been in use moments ago.

On the desk rests a small digital clock displaying the time in thin green numbers; 11:05 a.m. Soft light filters through closed blinds, catching the glass covered photos on the walls. Most show a young boy and girl, with green and white hair respectively, from babies to toddlers to teenagers. Others show a teenager with blue hair in a tight fitted tuxedo. Beside him stands a young woman, violet hair in thick curls gathered to the side, in a full-length ice blue dress matching that of her date’s hair. Similar high school homecoming pictures fill the space behind them. Someone with red hair sleeps curled up in front of fireplace, arms tucked protectively around a puppy with a curled tail. Next to that picture is the ginger teen again but the puppy is now a dog and holding a toy in its mouth. One photo sharing the space shows two girls, one with fiery hair and the other with locks of deep purple, dressed as witches about to go trick-or-treating on a Halloween night.

Spread out in a circle is a series of wedding pictures; white dresses and black suits of different couples taken both inside and outside. One that stands out is a tall pair under the branches of an oak tree. The groom has dark green hair tied back at the base of his neck and wears not a tuxedo, but a white robe with a deep neckline hemmed in gold to show a detailed long-tailed coat underneath. Long lengths of more white cloth making a fitted headdress flow down his back. The outfit’s only spot of color are the emerald earrings piecing his lobes. His wife is shown in a pale pink gown, embroidered in reds, golds, blues, greens, and yellows. The fabric cuts off at her shoulders, leaving bangles to decorate her wrists in a myriad of colors. Her own headdress starts at the back of her head to hangs down to her feet, meeting the hemline of her skirt on the grassy floor. The beautiful smile on her face is one that mirrors that of her husband.

Aside from the wedding pictures there is a small collection of a birthday celebration; nearly all of the photos featuring the green haired man from the wedding picture but a good deal younger. He was shorter as well, barely standing above the heads of the twins behind him. The collection seems to be a timeline from morning until night, even including a collage style photo of him waking up and another of him slowly surrounding himself with wrapping paper and a neat pile of gifts. Several pictures had him with his arms wrapped around an older man in casual clothes and gray locks that hung in front of his eyes. Lifting the older man off his feet with the power of the hug. In each photo the young man had a brilliant smile on his face, especially when paired with the gray haired man and the woman seen in the wedding photo. Again she was also younger but it was not as noticeable as with the man.

On the desk is a stack of photos, with the top one being a collection of fifteen people. Broad grins on all of their faces, they stand in front of a large house that doesn’t fit in the frame. A person comes into the room, reaching down and picking up the photos. The holder looks at the one on top, to check it was the right pile and pauses. This was taken last month, he realizes and chuckles softly. Looking to the way he came from when someone calls him from the kitchen.

“Dad! Mom has the skillet! Mom has the skillet!” Young and maturing, the voice has more than a hint of panic in it.

The man sighs softly, removing the top photo and setting the rest down on the desk. He turns and exits the room to stop the kitchen from burning down before it could start, as it was likely to do, stove or not. He places this picture next to one in a metal frame that’s worn around the edges despite the glass keeping it safe. In this one there are only seven people and they all look much younger. There are no grins in this one as half of those in the photograph seem to be locked in a wrestling match, three others trying to stop it while the seventh person just looks on.

Back on the stack rests a peculiar photo, another one of the man but this time he is surrounded by gray rocks and dark colored greens. He is not looking at the photographer but what draws the eyes is the tyrannosaurus feet covered in brown scales; scales that continue up his body to cover his back and shoulders. Leading up to where a thick tail rests curled on the ground, and a pair of arched wings poised for a swift take off in case the need arose.

_My life is one with two sides; the first is displayed to the neighbors and the rest of the world, one of normalcy. Its other side is one I share with six others- no, almost twenty others that keep secret as well. Having grown older I feel that someone should know what happened to myself and five other people. Maybe even what could have been, but that comes later. Some things will be from their point of view, to help explain some parts, but mostly it will be from mine. I’ll start at the beginning of my life, literally. When I was born, so to speak, over twenty years ago._


End file.
